


So Few Come and Don't Go

by listentotheink



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentotheink/pseuds/listentotheink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is on the football team and is one of the popular kids. He’s dating Harry, a shy guy who is on the school choir. People tend to pick on Harry because of his hobby, and sometimes they just need a reminder that you really don’t mess with Louis Tomlinson’s boyfriend…</p><p>I just expanded this idea a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Few Come and Don't Go

Harry liked music. He always had. And singing. He liked to sing. Actually. He loved to sing. He lived to sing. He needed to sing. And people just didn’t understand. Mostly because they never took the time to ask why.

The only person who had was Louis Tomlinson. And it was because the other people on his football team had asked him to find out why Harry was so weird.

But Harry never thought of himself as weird. He was just shy, and he had a hard time expressing himself. The arts were his only way to do so, and singing in particular was the way he delivered his emotions to others.

But people just didn’t understand, did they?

They didn’t understand. They never asked why. They just judged and ridiculed and criticized without taking the victim’s emotions into consideration. And, sadly, that was the crux of Harry’s existence for two and a half years of sixth form. Until Louis Tomlinson came along, of course. But before that… Before him.. Harry’s life was like a living hell.

It wasn’t his fault he was shy. It wasn’t his fault that he had social anxiety and didn’t really like to talk to others much. It wasn’t his fault that he just wanted to be left alone most of the time. It wasn’t his fault that he got his homework on time, and it wasn’t his fault that he loved to sing. That’s just how he was. It’s how he was wired, and it was nothing that he could change. And even if he had wanted to change it, he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t change anything about himself because he was who he was, and he was who he was for a reason, even if he didn’t know exactly why.

When he wasn’t in classes, he was in the choir room with his earphones in, a pen and notebook in hand. Avoiding the rest of the student body, even though they didn’t really notice him. Or he was helping the choir director pick music for their next show. The director, Mrs. Garrison, had become quite fond of him in the two and a half years they had known each other, and she always took his suggestions into consideration. He knew how good the choir was, and he knew what they were capable of. Even if the music selections he picked were sometimes complicated or took more effort to learn than others. He knew what the group could handle. Their potential. And Mrs. Garrison knew it too, so they would often rifle through sheet music together.

If they weren’t looking through sheet music, Harry would be sat in a chair, writing down the lyrics of songs that stuck out to him. He had a beat up leather journal that his mum had bought for him when he passed his GSCEs, and it was something that he never left home without. That and his black felt-tipped pen.

The pages were curling, and the spine was soft. It would lay flat when opened to the center page, and Harry would put an elastic around the outside just to make sure that it wouldn’t fall apart and that nothing would fall in between the pages and damage it when he carried it back and forth in his rucksack. He loved that journal, loved the words written inside, even if he hated his handwriting.

Sometimes he would write a whole song down, just to be able to go back and look at what it was telling him when he didn’t want to listen. Other times it would be a word, or a line, or a stanza.. But they were all beautiful. The words that filled the pages. And they ranged from Abba to the XX. He listened and loved every style of music. As long as it didn’t hurt his ears, he would listen and enjoy it. He had his favorites, of course. But he liked just about everything. He just liked music. He liked words. He liked when they would form together into a beautiful thing that could save someone’s life.

It was on one of these days, the days that Harry was sitting in the choir room, writing down Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’ that he had met Louis Tomlinson.

He knew who Louis was. Everyone did. He was the captain of the football team, and he was dating Eleanor Calder. The beautiful girl in the drama club who always, always, always got the female leads. Harry swore up and down that he could play opposite of her. He knew that he could. But he never auditioned because he was just Harry. And the drama club was a popularity contest most of the time, and the advisor played favorites and since Harry didn’t know the advisor, there really wasn’t a point in him trying. At least that’s what he told himself when he would listen to them rehearse their vocals through the doors of the auditorium, wishing that he was the one on the stage instead of Liam Payne.

Harry would see Louis there sometimes, too. Watching her rehearse after his footy practice got over and greeting her with a kiss and a bright smile. His eyes would crinkle up, and Harry knew that he was just genuinely happy with her.

And he was beautiful. He was absolutely beautiful. So it made sense that he and Eleanor would be the power couple of the school. He was pixie like, with sharp cheekbones and a beautiful smile. He was often seen sporting red trousers and braces, and his hair was always styled into a perfect quiff. He had a beautiful curvy figure, and the most amazing bum that Harry had ever seen. And Louis was always laughing or chattering away with his friends on the football team. Harry wasn’t sure if he was jealous of him for having what Harry wanted most, or if he had feelings for the boy, which was scary in itself.

Harry had known he was gay since he was ten. But this was the first time he had ever taken an interest in a person. A person who didn’t know Harry existed, and a person who was so far out of his league he didn’t think it was even worth the effort to pine after him. They were too different, at any rate. And Louis would never want him. A shy boy in the school choir who spent most of his time hidden from the rest of the world.

Harry noticed a lot of things in the time he had spent watching Louis. He didn’t mean it to be creepy or anything. He was a wallflower of sorts, and he liked to observe. And by the end of year ten, Louis wasn’t smiling as much as he used to. He would wear his hair flat to school instead of it being in it’s usual quiff. And he wouldn’t bother changing or showering after footy like he used to. He didn’t know what was happening to him, Harry just knew that Louis wasn’t happy like he used to be. Neither was Eleanor.

But he said nothing. Did nothing. He was too afraid, after all. And who was he to go and ask one of, if not the most, popular boy in school if he was okay? Harry had one job, and it was to go through sixth form unnoticed, a faint blip on the radar.

But then he met Louis Tomlinson. And when he met Louis Tomlinson, he was sitting in a corner of the choir room on a Wednesday in September. When Harry Styles met Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson was crying.

The doors to the choir room weren’t exactly quiet. So when they slammed open, Harry heard them even though the instrumental to Fix You was flooding into his ears on full volume. He was in his usual place in the corner, his safe zone, when the doors flew open and crashed against the wall. Harry jumped, and his head snapped up just in time to see Louis dart into the hallway that lead to the practice rooms. Mrs. Garrison wasn’t in the room, so Harry had taken it upon himself to go investigate what the boy was doing. He was sure Louis wasn’t up to anything good, and he needed to do something about it.

So he closed his journal and put an elastic around it, capping his pen and pausing his music. When he took his headphones out, he could hear choked sobs coming from the direction Louis had just gone, and he started to get nervous. He wasn’t good with people who were crying. The only person he knew how to handle when they were crying was himself, and it’s because he had been doing that for seventeen years. He had learned himself really, really well in that time.

But something made him continue forward through the door. Something made him slide down the wall next to the crying boy and put his hand on his shoulder gently.

Louis initially tensed and Harry recoiled, thinking that he had already done something wrong. So he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, not saying anything. Too nervous to do so. His heart was racing. Why was a boy as beautiful as Louis Tomlinson crying?

Harry rested his cheek against his knee, turning his head to look at the side of Louis’ face, and he waited. He felt a sudden urge to protect this boy, and he didn’t have any idea where it came from. Not a clue.

“You don’t have to stare at me like that.” Louis had muttered into his hands, which had been covering his face. “People stare at me all the time, and I don’t like it… so please. Stop.”

“S-sorry..” Harry said, trailing off and turning to look at the wall ahead.

He heard Louis sniffle and then sigh. Then he laid his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry froze.

“No.. I’m sorry.” Louis said. Harry chanced a look at him, only to see that Louis had closed his eyes. “It’s just everything right now is kind of shit. Like. I’m not doing so great in classes because football is taking up all of my time because I want a scholarship to a good university, or to be scouted for a Premiere League team.. maybe not that high of a level yet, but at least a club team would be nice, you know? And the only friends I have that aren’t shit are too busy wrapped up in their own lives to hang out with me and that’s good on them, really but sometimes I just kind of feel alone, and like I need someone. Especially now that my parents are getting divorced and I’ve got four little sisters at home and my mum is like, getting depressed or some shit. My dad’s back and forth between his new flat and our house picking up his things and that’s just making it worse for all of us because he’s been in our lives for so long. I mean, for a really long time it was just me and my mum, so she’s like my best friend but then she met my dad and had the girls and it got better. But now he’s leaving and every time he comes home the girls think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to stay and then he leaves again. And now my girlfriend is ready to break up with me because I’ve been “ignoring” her when really I’ve just been having a lot happen in my life. And I don’t think it would be such a bad thing because as of today I’ve started to allow myself to thing that I’m not entirely straight even though the signs have been there for years if I’m honest, and—”

His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder, wide eyed. As if he couldn’t believe that he just opened up to a complete stranger.

Honestly, Harry couldn’t blame him.

“I-I shouldn’t have said all that.” Louis said, scooting a good distance away from Harry. “I don’t even know you. I just told you things that I wouldn’t tell my friends… You aren’t going to tell anyone, are you? You don’t hate me, right? Oh god. This is so fucked up!” he tugged on his hair and buried his face between his knees. “Stupid, Louis. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Mum always told me not to trust people easily.”

“Uh, Louis?” Harry said hesitantly.

“Now he’s going to go out and tell all of his friends and my life is going to be ruined and it’s already shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Louis.” Harry said again. He wanted the other boy to look at him, to know he wasn’t going to tell anyone. Say anything. Even if he did, who was going to listen to him? “Louis.” He repeated, reaching out to the other boy carefully. He gripped Louis’ hand.

“What?” Louis said quietly, finally meeting Harry’s eyes.

“I don’t have friends.” He mumbled. “And even if I did… it’s your secret to tell. Not mine.”

Louis let out a relieved sigh, and almost smiled.

The second time Harry met Louis, it was a Friday in October, he was walking past the football pitch making his way to the car park to his Range Rover. That was a pity present from his stepfather. He felt bad that Harry didn’t have a girlfriend, or even friends. He swore that a nice car would get Harry both. But what Harry didn’t tell him was that, even with the car, no one even knew his name. Not even the teachers. Plus they all drove nicer cars than a Range Rover. It was like a car show in the car park. But his stepdad had looked so happy when he handed Harry the keys. So he just took them with a smile and left for school.

He tossed his keys into the air once, twice, again, and the fourth time he missed the catch and stooped over to pick them up just as a football came flying towards him and hit him in the chest so hard he toppled backward and fell onto the grass, breathing heavily as tears fell out of his eyes. It hadn’t hurt. It had just caught him off guard, and scared him.

“Oh my god! Harry!”

Harry’s breathing had slowed considerably once he realized that he wasn’t, in fact, dead. But his tears hadn’t, and he could hear the laughs of the rest of the football team as he sat in the grass, trying to pull himself together. Then he remembered that his iPod had been in the pocket of his blazer, and he scrambled to take it out of his pocket. Only to see that the screen had been shattered when the ball had hit it.

That just sent him into a new wave of tears.

“Harry…” a soft voice said. He recognized it immediately, even though he had only heard it once. It was Louis.

Harry threw himself into the other boy’s arms, holding onto his broken iPod tightly as he cried. He knew that the other boy didn’t understand. Knew that he wouldn’t ask. Because no one ever did. Ever.

And that’s when he realized exactly what he was doing, and he scrambled up onto his feet before running away to his car. Listening to the mirth of the footy team as he ran away.

He didn’t hear Louis yell “shut the fuck up!” to the rest of his team, though. As he was locked safely in his car, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

He didn’t turn the radio on. They never played anything good. And his iPod was shattered. So he had nothing to listen to.

The third time he met Louis was the next Wednesday. The boy was standing beside his locker, holding a small wrapped box in his hand. He fidgeted nervously, passing the box back and forth between his hands. Harry’s brow furrowed, but he felt his heart swell at the sight of the boy with the quiff.

“Louis?” He said quietly.

Louis just pressed the box into his hand, and turned on his heel before practically sprinting away.

Harry unwrapped the box just as Eleanor walked by, crying, surrounded by a group of friends. She glared at Harry and he cocked his head to the side, confused as to why she had suddenly gone cold to him. He didn’t know she knew who he was. But he heard “break up”, “asshole” and “doesn’t know what he’s missing” as they walked by. So he could only assume that it was because Louis had broken up with her. But how he related to that situation, he had no idea.

Inside the box was a brand new, green fifth generation iTouch, a flashdrive, and a note from Louis.

 

_Hey, Harry._

_Sorry I broke your old iPod… I didn’t mean it. And I get a feeling that it was really, really, really important to you.. So, I wanted to get you another._

_The flashdrive has some of my favorites on it.. I hope you forgive me._

_xx Louis._

The fourth time Harry met Louis, it was a Tuesday of the same month. Harry was sneaking a piece of paper into Louis’ locker through the slots in the metal. He had written down Look After You by the Fray during his lunch hour while sitting in the choir room, listening to it, and had added “This is my favorite xx.” and his phone number at the bottom. Not that Louis would ever contact him. After the last time they had met, he was sure that the other boy didn’t want anything to do with him. He had his tongue between his teeth and was trying extremely hard to not wrinkle the paper. He was concentrating so much, he didn’t even hear the footsteps behind him.

“Harry?”

Harry wheeled around, paper still in his hand, like a deer caught in headlights. His hands started to shake and the boy behind Louis, who Harry knew to be Zayn Malik, started to laugh at him. Harry slumped his shoulders, and hung his head.

“It’s the fucking creepy choir boy, Louis.” Zayn said, laughing hysterically. “What do you want, freak?”

This was why Harry had tried to get the note into the locker before Louis had shown up. He knew that his friends would tease him. He knew that this would happen. But he had spent so much bloody fucking time on trying not to wrinkle the paper, that plan was out the window.

“Shut up, Zayn.” Louis snapped. Harry tensed. “He’s not a freak. Leave him alone, would you?”

“Christ, Louis. When did you go soft?”

“When you started treating my friends like shit!”

Friends? Harry was Louis friend?

“Friend? Are you fucking serious?” Zayn said, incredulous. “Have you looked at him? He’s a fucking freak! He hides in the choir room because no one wants to fucking talk to him. He’s just about invisible.”

Harry’s eyes burned. But he wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Not in front of Louis.

The thing was that, he didn’t think Zayn understood exactly how much courage it took for him to even go to Louis’ locker in the first place.

“Enough.” Louis grit out. “Just go, Zayn. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Whatever.”

Then Harry and Louis were alone, and Harry stuck his hand out to Louis, holding the paper in his palm.

“What’s this?”

He took the paper and Harry rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels as Louis read the song he had rewritten. His smile grew with every line and his eyes traveled back and forth. This was it. This was when Louis was going to agree with Zayn. This was when he was going to crumple the paper and laugh in his face. Then Harry was going to shrink back into himself again and hide out in the choir room for the rest of the year. Not that he hadn’t planned on doing that already.

But he didn’t. He folded the paper carefully, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his blazer with a smile.

“I-I wanted to say thanks.” Harry said quietly. “This was the only way I knew how.”

“You didn’t have to.” Louis said, shaking his head. “It was something I wanted to do, not something I did because I was looking for a thank you. I got the feeling that music is really important to you, you know? Like. You’re always like, in the choir room. And like. When you’re not you’ve got your headphones in and like… this was just something small. I owe you more than a new iPod.. Seriously. You were the only one who came to make sure I was okay when I was crying.. So this was more of a thank you to you than you would ever know.”

“I’d like to.” Harry said, clearing his throat. “I’d like to, you know. Know.”

Louis held out his hand for Harry to take with a smile.

“Come on, then. Let’s go have tea at mine.”

Louis’ house was about four times bigger than Harry’s. Not that he had expected much less. He had heard that Louis was wealthy but, until now, he didn’t really know exactly how wealthy he was. He never acted like he had money, that much was for sure. Harry admired him for that. He was just your average footballer in sixth form. A public school, nonetheless. Rumor had it that all of his sisters went to a private academy, but that was never confirmed nor denied, and Harry wasn’t about to ask him.

“This doesn’t change things, right?” Louis asked quietly. “The fact that I have money… This isn’t going to change what you think of me?”

Harry shook his head. “Never.”

Louis sighed. “Good. It dramatically changes most people’s opinions of me most of the time.”

“I’m not that kind of person.” Harry said, stepping out of the car. “I’m happy I have someone talking to me, if I’m honest.”

“More people should talk to you.” Louis said, leading Harry up the front path, where the door to the house was opened for them. Harry adjusted his bag carefully, stepping inside and onto the marble floor. The heels of his shoes echoed throughout the foyer.

“I’ve never been that concerned, to be honest.” Harry said with a shrug as a tall, balding, thin man took Louis’ bag and helped him out of his blazer. Louis’ face was blank, as if he was just going through the motions. Harry clutched his bag close to his chest. He needed to keep his journal safe. He couldn’t let anyone take it. Louis would certainly think him crazy if he saw that recently, the songs had gone from depressing to extremely happy, and the margins had been littered with the word “Louis” more and more until it was just a regular thing on each page.

Louis just smiled.

“Don’t worry. He won’t take your things.” He said, reassuring Harry. “Right, Lucas?”

The butler, Lucas apparently, nodded stiffly before disappearing down the hallway with Louis’ blazer in hand.

“Hasn’t spoken a word to me since the day I was born. I swear it.” Louis said, shaking his head. He took Harry’s hand again, and lead him into a massive kitchen that Harry wanted so desperately it hurt. Someday he would have a kitchen like this. Then he could listen to music and cook and no one would bother him. He would just be free to do whatever he pleased. Maybe he would have it closed off from the rest of his house so he could sing too. Sing and make pancakes and pasta and stir-fry… whatever he felt like eating.

“You alright, Curly?”

Harry’s head snapped towards Louis when the nickname dropped from Louis’ lips.

“Curly?”

Louis smiled hesitantly. “Yeah… you know. Like your hair. It’s really curly… so, like. Curly. It just fits, I guess.”

Harry smiled then. A full blown, million watt smile that tore his face in two and made his eyes crinkle up at the corners and his dimples came out. He smiled so much that his face hurt, and it had been so, so long since he had smiled like that he forgot how to stop. Maybe it was because he thought that maybe, just maybe he was getting himself a friend. Or maybe it was just because it was Louis and Louis always made Harry want to smile uncontrollably.

“I’ve been listening to happy songs, lately.” Harry said, suddenly. “Like. Really super happy songs. And I think it’s because of you.”

He clapped his hand over his mouth as those words. He couldn’t believe that he had just said that, and he let his head droop in embarrassment, not wanting Louis to see how hot his face had gotten.If he had been looking up, he would have seen the fond smile on Louis’ face.

“Should I take that as a compliment? Because your face is really red, Curly.”

“Weren’t supposed to notice.” Harry muttered, his face getting more and more red.

“It’s cute.” Louis said, and Harry’s face split into another smile. “And I like your smile. You should smile more, Haz.”

“Until now, I never had a reason to.”

The second Monday of November, Louis had a match after school. It was his final match of the season, and Harry wanted to do something to show his support.

So Harry did something that was completely out of his comfort zone. He slipped a piece of paper with his favorite song lyric from “Can’t Hold Us” by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis into Louis’ locker a few minutes before the final bell, and then he walked down to the pitch. He climbed up the bleachers slowly, sitting in the top right corner, clutching his bag to his chest as the Temper Trap flowed into his ears. He rocked back and forth, hoping that no one would notice he was there. Part of him hoped that even Louis wouldn’t notice. But the other, larger, part of him wanted to scream to the world that he was there to watch Louis Tomlinson play football. Even though he had never taken an interest in sports, ever.

He had a feeling, as Louis walked across the field in his white football kit with the big black seventeen on the back, that he could definitely fall in love with football. As long as Louis kept playing.

He saw Louis sweep the stands after an impressive goal scored during the warm ups. His face immediately lit up and he waved towards Harry. Harry couldn’t stop himself from goofy smiling and waving back, even as all eyes turned towards him. He would do anything to get Louis to smile like that.

Anything.

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:24pm:

Saw u @ the game. U left fst. u ok hazbear?

 

He hated text talk more than anything. Gemma used it, and his mum used it, and it drove him absolutely insane. He wanted proper spelling and proper grammar. If it was anyone else, he would have said so, because he had told his mum and Gem to use proper english when speaking to him via text. But this was Louis. And he was scared of losing him at any moment. So he let it slide.

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:26pm:

yeah. I was just really tired, that’s all xx.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:27pm:

need me 2 come sng u 2 sleep? ;

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:29pm:

No, that’s okay :) I’ll sleep fine thinking about how well you played.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:30pm:

u flttr me, haz. not tht good. c u in school, yeah?

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:32pm:

You were brilliant. Don’t tell yourself otherwise. Of course I’ll see you at school. Night, Lou xx.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:33pm:

nite nite hazbear. xx

Tuesday, he had a free period before lunch, so he walked off to the choir room, for a quick kip in the corner. He had been getting nothing but strange looks from everyone all day, and he was exhausted from the night before. Whenever he did something that was out of his comfort zone like going to that game, he woke up in the morning still feeling drained. So he went to the choir room, and put his earbuds in, listening to Swagger Jagger by Cher Lloyd and writing down some of the lyrics before closing his eyes and falling asleep with his journal open and the pen in his hand.

When he woke an hour later, he was laying down, and his head was in someone’s lap. He opened his eyes slowly, smiling when he saw the familiar quiff of Louis’ hair before he realized that Louis was turning the pages in HIS journal. Harry’s.

He sat up sharply and snatched the journal away from Louis, slamming it shut and holding it to his chest.

“Y-you had no right!” He said, still shocked.

Louis looked at him, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Harry… I didn’t know.”

“It’s a journal, Louis!” Harry shot back. He couldn’t believe that he would do that. Just pick up anything and read it. Especially his journal. HARRY’s journal. Even though there wasn’t anything really personal in the book, it was still an invasion of privacy, and if Harry had wanted Louis to see, he would have shown him in time. “You’re my friend… you’re supposed to ask me!”

“You were asleep… I didn’t want to wake you. I saw the lyrics and I got curious. I didn’t know you would get so heated about it. If I knew I would have left it.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to leave it! You shouldn’t have looked.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry?” Louis asked, taking Harry’s hand and gripping it tightly so he couldn’t pull away.

“After you stop laughing at me for writing down song lyrics in a journal.” Harry muttered. Because that’s what he was all set to expect. That’s what he was preparing himself for, because it was inevitable. Louis was going to laugh, and then tell everyone what a freak he was, and then Harry was going to lose the only friend he’d ever had.

“I’m not going to laugh at you.” Louis said, shaking his head. “You should know me better then that, Harry.”

“You’ll laugh at me some day.” Harry said. “They all do. Even when I try to go unnoticed, they all laugh. All of your friends laugh. They’ve been giving me strange looks because I showed up at your football game yesterday. I just wanted to watch you play. Do something different. But I’m the choir boy that’s better off invisible. Everyone thinks so.”

“I don’t think that.” Louis said quietly. “I just want to understand you. I want to understand why music is so important. Why you want to be invisible when you shine brighter than the sun and should let everyone know that. When you’re a fire that shouldn’t be doused. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Harry. And I wish you would see that.”

Harry chuckled. “Me? A force to be reckoned with? Yeah. Right. That would work well. The little choir boy who would rather sit in a corner and write lyrics that have already been written. The one who would rather hang out with a teacher, picking out selections for concerts than making friends. The silly little invisible person who’s falling in love with the popular football captain who shouldn’t even look twice at me because he’s got the world at his feet, and I have nothing?”

“What was that?” Louis said, glancing at Harry. “You’re.. you’re falling in love with me?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he tugged his hand out of Louis’ grip, scrambling as far away as he could and shrinking back into himself. He was trying to make himself as small as possible, but he didn’t know how. He pulled his knees to his chest, taking deep breaths to settle himself down, hiding his face between them and rocking back and forth. After a moment, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice said softly. He felt a pair of lips brush against his head, and he still didn’t look up. He was too embarrassed. He should have shut his mouth. He should have kept it a secret because now everything was over and he was going to go back to listening to the sad songs while Louis laughed it off and fell back in love with some girl, or guy, that was better than Harry and deserved Louis more.

Because in the scheme of things, Harry didn’t deserve anyone. He hadn’t tried to have anyone, so he felt like he didn’t deserve anyone. Especially not someone as lovely and wonderful as Louis. Louis who kept him awake at night with visions that he shouldn’t be having. Louis who would text him at one in the morning because he’d had a brilliant idea for a prank that would never be carried out because he was too afraid of losing his spot on the football team. Louis, whom he had only known for a few weeks, if that, and had already understood him more than anyone ever had. Louis, who would defend him if he found out about people bullying Harry. Louis, who had provided him a friend.

No, he definitely didn’t deserve someone like that.

“Why don’t you leave?” Harry said quietly. “Why are you still here?”

“Because, believe it or not.” Louis said softly. “I actually like you. Like, I like you quite a lot. Maybe in a more than friends way.”

“You’re not taking the piss, are you?” Harry said, finally looking up at him through wide eyes. Louis shook his head, and Harry looked back down.

“Where’s that smile?” Louis asked quietly. “Come on, Haz. Where’s that smile?”

Harry couldn’t help himself. He really couldn’t. A slow smile made its way across his face and Louis lifted Harry’s chin up with his hand.

“I’ve never like.. Been with a guy before.” Louis said quietly. “Like. Dated. You know… And I don’t want to fuck this up. So… we’re going to do whatever you want, okay? Like. If you want to be out or whatever, then we’ll be out. If not, then it’ll stay a secret. I just don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you, ever. Because I’m not. I’m glad I started talking to you, Curly. And I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

“I think… I think we should be out.” Harry said softly. “Get the worst of it over all at once, yeah? I mean, we can have the rest of the week as a secret to sort of, get a feel for each other? And then maybe.. Monday, we can hold hands in the hallway or something? I haven’t done this with anyone. Ever. So I’m going to be shit at it. I’m already shit at being a friend, so… being a boyfriend won’t be much different.”

“You’re not a shit friend. And I doubt you’re going to be a shit boyfriend.” Louis said, dropping another kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “This is new for both of us, so we’ll figure it out as we go, okay?”

Harry nodded and Louis pulled him into his arms for a hug before letting him go again. Harry just dove back into his lap and hid his face in Louis’ neck to cover another stupid smile.

“You said you want to know why music is so important to me.” he said quietly. He felt Louis nod and he took a deep breath. “I’m not exactly good at expressing myself.” He said quietly. “Music says what I can’t. So like… when you gave me the iPod and flashdrive… I listened to all of thee songs you left for me, and when I heard Look After You, I just thought of when you were crying and how I wanted to protect you from whatever caused it. And the song just… said all of that better than I could. And when I sing, that’s how I feel. It feels like I’m finally saying everything I want to, even if I can’t speak it. Almost like writing, you know? Like. If an author can’t say what they feel, they write it down. I write down lyrics that are meaningful to me, or some combination of words that’s just really nice, something I wish I could say and make sound just as good… It used to be all sad songs. Then you came along and the music changed. My life changed. It got happier, brighter, better. My life became worth it, and I didn’t feel like I needed to listen to the sad songs to get me by.”

“I don’t know. What you just said sounded pretty good to me.”

Harry sent a shy smile up and Louis.

“You’re a special case, Lou. You always have been. Always will be.”

“I did a cover of Look After You, once.” Louis said with a shrug. “It’s shit. But it was just for fun, you know? The Fray is like, my favorite band ever.”

“I’d like to hear it, sometime. Boyfriend.” Harry said, testing the word out on his lips.

“Yeah. Okay.” Louis said with a smile. “Boyfriend.”

That Thursday, Louis introduced Harry to his friends, properly. Zayn, Liam and Niall all greeted him with open arms, even though he and Zayn hadn’t had the best first meeting. Zayn apologized almost the second Harry sat down with them, and sent him a kind smile. Harry knew that the three knew about he and Louis. Louis had texted him about it the night before because they were his best mates and he wanted them to know as soon as possible so Harry would have a support system if Louis couldn’t be there to protect him.

Harry had agreed, noting that he didn’t have friends except for Louis, and when people noticed him, it usually wasn’t in a kind way.

“Anyone who can make my Boobear smile like you has a place here.” He had said, and Harry had let out a rather girlish giggle.

“Boobear?” He asked. Louis groaned.

“That’s my mum’s doing.”

The next Monday, the only thing Harry and Louis got were turned heads. They didn’t get hellos, they didn’t get slaps on the back. Not that Harry had ever gotten that, but Louis did, usually. But as they walked down the hall holding hands proudly, Louis had nothing but the bravest of faces on. They both knew what they were getting themselves into, and they both knew that it wasn’t going to be easy.

But the first call of “Tommo’s queer for the freak?!” nearly sent both of them over the edge. Louis gripped onto Harry’s hand tightly, and Harry squeezed back. They both needed an anchor. And Harry was going to be Louis’. He was Harry’s anchor for nearly three months, now. Maybe that’s why there were so many turned heads. Because they had never been seen with each other until now. Only a few even knew that Louis knew Harry’s name. And now to see them walking down the hallway holding hands, that was a shock to them. Or maybe it was the elephant in the room:

The captain of the football team was now gay. With the “freak.”

The whispers followed them the whole day. When they met up in the hallways to walk each other to class. When they went to seek solace in the choir room… There were whispers. There were whispers and people and insults being thrown at them.

“It’ll all go away soon.” Harry said to Louis quietly. They were sitting in the choir room, listening to the XX on a low volume. Louis was running his hands through Harry’s curls, looking down at where his head rested in Louis’ lap.

Louis sighed. “I’m not too worried, honestly. They can think what they want.”

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

8:15pm:

worst. prctc. evr.

 

Harry felt his phone go off in his pocket just as he was crawling into bed to read The Great Gatsby. It was an assignment for English, even though he had already read it a few times. His copy was well worn, and some of the pages were falling out. But he loved that book, almost as much as he loved his Harry Potter and Game of Thrones books.

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

8:16pm:

What happened?

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

8:27pm:

the boys. gv me a robe. wnt chng in frnt of me.

 

Harry sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. He knew this was going to happen. Louis was already looked at for being strange because he knew Harry, but now that they were together, this just gave the school, and his teammates, that much more to give him grief for.

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

8:29pm:

We shouldn’t have come out, Louis.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

10:30pm:

2 l8 now, hazbear. we’ll get thru it. u no tht rite?

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

8:32pm:

I know we will. I’m just sorry you have to be treated this way because of me.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

9:33pm:

sry was in shwr. & haz i wud go thru alot more 4 u thn this. c u @ school. mt in cr prk?

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

9:34pm:

of course xx.

 

From: Louis Tomlinson :)

9:36pm:

c u then. nite nite hazbear xx

 

To: Louis Tomlinson :)

9:40pm:

Night, Lou xx.

 

It was the next day when the bullying turned physical. At least for Harry. He’d been shoved around in the hallways all day, and Louis had been pushing right back as much as he could. He had one final team run today, though. So he had to leave school just a tiny bit earlier than normal, which left Harry to fend for himself. He had never been any good at that, really. But he knew that if he could just get out the door and to the pitch, he wouldn’t have a problem.

He had spent most of the day in the choir room, picking selections for their next show with Mrs. Garrison. She didn’t mind, and knew he was going through a harder time than normal, she knew that the choir room was his safe spot, so that’s why she let him stay. And he left feeling happy and relaxed, and ready to go home for a nice cuppa and maybe a quick kip on the couch before meeting up with Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn later that night to go bowling.

So, he was smiling when he started his descent of the stone steps at the front of the school. All he could think was LouisLouisLouisLouis. And how he was going on a date, even if it was with a few other mates. It was still bowling with food and drinks and mates, and it was a date. Louis was picking him up at seven, and it was a date.

He practically skipped to his Range Rover.

But when he saw a few of the biggest guys in school standing next to his car, he hesitated before pressing the button to unlock it. When the doors unlocked, attention was brought to Harry, and the boys standing by his car turned, with smirks on their faces.

“Hey, bender!” The tallest of the three, called. Harry had to put on a brave face.

“Hello!” Harry said, as cheerful as he could muster as the three boys started to walk towards him. “You alright?”

When they were within reach, one of the boys shoved him backwards.

“Going to see your queer boyfriend?”

Harry wouldn’t cower away. He wouldn’t. He could do this. He could be brave. He could be brave like Louis.

“Y-yes, in fact.” Harry said, his voice growing stronger. “I am. We’re going bowling tonight with some mates.”

“You don’t have any mates,” another said, shoving him again. “Freak.”

“I do!” Harry said. “Liam, Niall and Zayn are all my mates.”

“They just feel sorry for you!” The tallest of the three shoved him back with enough force to knock him onto the ground. Harry peered up at them through the hair that had fallen in his face. This was what they sank to to feel alright with themselves. They bullied innocent people for a laugh, got off on it, even. It was sickening, especially when Harry had done nothing, to deserve it.

“Fucking queer can’t even get up off the ground!” one of them shouted, pushing him into the pavement harder. Harry rolled over onto his stomach to protect his face and his iPod from what was sure to come and he felt a shoe catch his ribs. He cried out in pain as another struck his other side.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay the fuck away from him?!” Louis’s voice shouted. Harry let out a breath of air as he heard three bodies fall to the ground. Louis was always there to save him.

Always.

“Are you alright, Hazbear?” Louis asked, crouching next to Harry. Harry shook his head and sat up before letting Louis pull him close.

“Scary, Lou.” he said, hiding his face in Louis’ neck, fighting the pain in his side as he breathed in to calm himself.

“It won’t happen again, love. It won’t.” Louis said, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “I’ll look after you. I promise.”


End file.
